My Dinner with Frank
by cheride
Summary: You know how it is: life happens at the dinner table.


_My Dinner with Frank- cheride_

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. The characters and concepts of Hardcastle & McCormick do not belong to me, but to their creators._

_Rating: G_

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**A/N:** For me, one of the great, under-utilized aspects of H&M was the wonderful Frank Harper. He is a rock, and if it were up to me, he would've been around a lot more. 

As always, sincere thanks go out to L.M. Lewis, who understands my fascination with Frank, and who always helps me keep things in the proper perspective, and to Susan Z., for spending precious spare time to help me get the finishing touches right.

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I was fidgeting. I knew it, but I couldn't stop it. My foot tapped and my fingers drummed, and the guy at the next table had given me the evil eye several times already. With almost super-human effort, I stilled my tapping, then folded my hands together to hold them quietly in front of me. I was sure this was a fairly short-term solution, though, so I was glad to see the front door open. Now we could get things started. And, even if I got too carried away and continued to annoy Mr. Evil Eye, at least I'd have police protection.

I watched Frank Harper thread his way through the mostly empty dining room to my table, and I could see the consternation written on his face. He wasn't in a suit today, just casual slacks and a polo top. Even so, I thought he stood out like a sore thumb. Seems to me that Cop with Questions is a hard look to hide.

"You know," the detective was already speaking as he completed the last few steps to the table, "there must be, oh, I don't know, about fifty Burger Mans in the greater LA area, but you drag me out here into the middle of nowhere." Frank pulled out a chair and plopped down. "Who are we hiding from, anyway? As if I didn't know."

I didn't try to deny it. Next to Hardcastle himself, Frank can always peg me quicker than anyone I know. I shrugged. "I told you it was personal."

"And I told _you_, Hardcastle isn't the kind of guy you want to be keeping 'personal' from."

"Well, I appreciate you comin' anyway, Frank, even if you think it's a bad idea." Even as I said the words, I realized I had never seriously considered that he wouldn't, which was really a pretty amazing thing for me to think about a cop. Life sure had changed in the last few years. Frank was talking again.

"Thought you were buying?"

I was grinning as I stood up. "Yeah, I am. What'll you have?" I took his order, then made my way back to the counter. When I returned, I had added an extra strawberry shake to his meal.

"Trying to soften me up?" he asked.

I laughed. "Of course. Let me know if it's working." I dug into my own meal, wanting to delay my intended conversation for just a while.

"So how do you think the Lakers will end up this year?" Frank asked out of nowhere.

I glanced up at him, and wondered if he could see my gratitude at the easy out. Like I said, Frank can always peg me pretty quick. "I think they have a pretty good shot," I told him. "But Boston is in the race for sure. The judge is pretty worked up about that. Keeps going on and on about how Bird is living his fantasy. Never mind the guy is like, three foot taller, and forty years younger; Hardcase thinks he could be out there leading the charge."

"So what's your official line on the championship?"

I laughed. "Oh, it's too early for that," I fibbed. No matter how much life had changed, I still had a hard time quoting odds to an officer of the law. "But you know the East won the All-Star game last month; it might make our boys here a little more motivated."

Harper grinned as he took another bite of his burger. He knew I had a line, and I knew he knew, but he wouldn't push it. I always figured he understood a guy had to have some way to supplement the slave wages Hardcastle paid his ex-con in residence.

Between bites, Frank steered us through an easy conversation of current news, giving me plenty of time to work up the courage to say what I came here to say. Marlin Perkins had passed away, so we talked about our memories of Wild Kingdom; and there had been a huge purse at Santa Anita earlier this month. And then there was the horror of the recent Challenger accident and ongoing investigations. Then Frank took us back to less tragic topics.

"What about replay in the NFL?"

"Oh, that." That was certainly a hot topic on the sports shows lately. "Um, I'm deferring judgment until the season begins. We'll see how they set it up. It could help. Some of those refs are about as blind and narrow-minded as a few district attorneys I've known in my life. But we can't be stopping the game every other play just to see what happened. It's gonna have to have some pretty strict regulation."

I thought Harper might choke on his shake. "Strict regulation? Mark McCormick is promoting strict regulation? On anything? I never thought I'd see the day."

I ate my last fry. This seemed like a pretty good opening. "Yeah, well, I've turned into a pretty by-the-book kind of guy in the past couple of years or so. Surprised you hadn't noticed."

"Must've slipped by me. Right along with those B&Es that never really happened and the occasional flight from sworn peace officers."

There was a reason Frank rarely called me on _my_ smart-ass attitude.

"Okay. So my book's a little different than yours." I grinned at him. "But I'm thinking it might be time to expand my reading a little bit." I pulled a stack of papers from my jacket. "I want to show you some things." I passed the first page across the table.

I watched Frank scan the letter quickly, then look back up at me. "Mark, this is great. Your parole's up?" He glanced back at the letter. "But this is dated over a week ago. I can't believe Milt didn't say anything."

"He doesn't know."

"_What_?"

I tried to explain something I wasn't sure I understood myself. "Well, I don't _think_ he knows. He hasn't said anything. I haven't brought it up."

"Well why not?" No one—not even Hardcastle—could do sheer exasperation better than Frank Harper.

I shrugged at the lieutenant. "I dunno. Just never found the right time, I guess. I'm not even sure what to say. I mean, as crazy as this sounds, Frank, I don't want to leave. I've gotten kind of used to playing Tonto."

"Who says you have to leave?" Harper demanded. "Jeez, Mark, you think the only reason Milt puts up with you is because of some stupid custody arrangement? I honestly don't know which of you makes me crazier sometimes. You need to talk to him about this."

I shook my head and picked up a second sheet of paper. "Not just yet, Frank. I've been thinking about something, but I don't really want to tell the judge just yet." I saw his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, yeah, I know: not the kind of guy I should keep stuff from. But just look at this." I handed him the next page.

"I won't have to arrest you after I read this, will I?" Frank quipped.

"Give me some credit, Frank. You know I'd never put anything in writing."

He just winked at me and turned his attention to the paper. This one took him a little longer to absorb, but a grin slowly came onto his face, and he raised his eyes back to meet mine.

"You've been accepted to law school? Why would you keep that from Milt? Mark, this is terrific! You have to tell him."

I think, if anyone ever asks me to talk about that moment, the thing I will remember most is that the first words out of Frank's mouth weren't closer to, 'Are you out of your mind?'. The simple acceptance in his response stopped me for just a second.

Finally, I remembered what I wanted to tell him. I shook my head. "I can't, Frank. This is kind of…well, terrifying. I mean, jeez, Frank, what if I can't cut it? Do you know how many people fail miserably at law school? People with better backgrounds than mine. I can't tell Hardcastle until I'm sure I can make it. I don't think I could stand it if I couldn't…" I stopped, realizing I hadn't really planned to go into _all_ of this.

"If you couldn't live up?" he suggested quietly. He was watching me closely.

At that strange moment it occurred to me—though not for the first time—that I'm really glad I never ran across Frank during any of my wilder escapades. Lots of cops are easy to con, but I've always had the feeling Frank might've had me confessing to things I hadn't even done. Yeah, he has me pegged, all right. So, I didn't try to explain, but just nodded, and mumbled, "Something like that."

And then he smiled. "Mark, after all this time, do you really think Milt could be disappointed in you? All he wants is whatever is best for you. And you going to law school? My God, nothing would make him prouder. You have to trust me on that."

I could feel the truth of that in my heart, but I was still scared. I was sure I wouldn't be able to face the judge if I couldn't cut it in school. Knowing he would just be proud of the effort only made me that much more determined to be certain I could succeed. Then I'd tell him.

I was sure Frank could read that decision on my face, but I said it out loud anyway. "Not yet, okay?"

And Harper just shrugged. "Your choice, Mark. But I think he should know." He paused a moment, then asked, "So why are you telling _me_?"

"Ah, that." I felt my face beginning to flush. "Well…"

He held out his hand. "C'mon. You've got one more piece of paper over there; what is it?"

"I sort of need a favor," I told him hesitantly. "A big one."

"Bigger than keeping secrets from Milt?" Somewhat understandably, Harper's tone implied that we must have been approaching _really_ big.

"Well, yeah. Bigger than that, I think." He was still holding out his hand, but I was clutching my sheet of paper like some kind of lifeline. "See, it turns out school is kind of expensive, and…"

That's as far as I got before Frank started snapping his fingers and gesturing for the paper. And his face had taken on that determined glare I think he must've learned from Hardcastle. He said only one word.

"Give."

"I just want you to know," I started to tell him quickly, "that if you can't, I'll understand. I mean, it's a lot- -"

"Give," Frank repeated sternly, so I passed him the paper. This one didn't take him long at all.

"You're getting a loan against the Coyote?"

"It's the only thing I have worth anything," I told him very matter-of-factly, "and this is for a good cause."

"You know Hardcastle would loan you the money without all this rigmarole." He waved the paper around. "_He_ probably wouldn't even ask for a co-signer."

"I don't know," I joked, "I already owe him a few month's phone bills." I got serious. "Besides, then I'd be back to telling him what I'm doing." I paused, then continued. "But I'm good for it, Frank. My credit sort of sucks, which is why the bank wants a co-signer even with the collateral, but I _am_ good for it."

"Oh, I know _that_," Frank answered, and the look on his face made me think I might've suddenly grown a third eye, or something. "You think I don't trust you enough to co-sign a loan? Not likely."

"So…?"

"So, I'm just trying to decide if I should say no so you'll have to go to Milt."

I started to laugh, then realized he might actually be serious. "You wouldn't."

He let me sweat for a few seconds, then spoke. "Well, no, I probably wouldn't."

"Probably?"

"If we can make a deal."

I did laugh a little then. "Well, the bank already wants eight percent interest; what's your deal?"

The thing about Frank is that it's easy to tell when he's not amused. His eyes get all squinty, and his jaw gets kinda tight, and he presses his lips together hard, like he's really trying not to say the first thing that popped into his head. There's probably a lesson I could learn in there, somewhere.

"Okay," I told him, "I'll be serious. What kind of a deal?"

"We have to decide when you're tellin' Milt."

"How about when I hand him the graduation announcement?" I suggested, but his eyes started that squinting thing again. "Well, when did you have in mind, then?"

"One semester."

"_One_ _semester_?"

Frank had delivered his idea calmly, as if it actually made sense, but I responded loudly enough to draw another look from ol' Evil Eye.

"I might as well tell him now."

"Okay," Harper agreed easily.

"Fra-a-ank." Frank hates it when I whine. Hell, I'm not too fond of it myself; I'm a grown man for God's sake. But one semester? That was insane. I tried to explain. "Look, I'm only going to class part-time. If I'm lucky, I'll squeeze in two classes per semester, and even that's gonna be hard without Hardcastle finding out. But I won't know anything after just two classes. Hell, for all I know, a trained monkey could make it through the first two classes." I could see from the very small grin on his face that Frank was close to making another smart-ass remark right then, but he let it slide.

"I'd really like to get through the year one courses," I continued, "but at least give me two semesters; get me through the first four classes. Since I'll be going part-time, that'll be _like_ one semester. If I want to go back after that, I'll tell him then. Okay?" Then I waited quietly for probably a full minute, but I could tell after about ten seconds that he was gonna say yes. Sometimes I have him pegged, too.

"So do you just need a signature, or do I need to go to the bank with you?"

"They want to meet you," I told him, talking through what I'm sure was the biggest, goofiest grin ever.

"Well, how about tomorrow, then?" Frank's grin was a pretty close match to my own.

"That would be great. I really appreciate this, Frank." Then I was quiet again, as it sank in that my whole life was about to change. Again. Sometimes I think I should've lived _two_ lifetimes to go through all the changes I've been through.

After a minute or so, I realized that—in addition to my pondering—I was sort of waiting for _the_ _talk_. Something about living up to my responsibilities, remembering that other people were involved now, and how I wouldn't be the only one suffering if I decided to just blow off this hare-brained idea.

But as soon as I realized I was waiting for it, I realized that I didn't think it was gonna come. Frank showed no sign of working up into any kind of superior, lecturing attitude. In fact, he wasn't even looking at me any more; he was back to reading over my letters. But he wasn't studying the loan agreement; he was re-reading my acceptance letter to school, and he had this smile on his face. It was small—almost not there at all—but it was real. He was happy for me. He was _proud_ of me. That will stay with me longer than any lecture ever would.

I leaned back in my chair and just watched him for a minute, amazed. Friends with a cop. I mean, _truly_ friends. If that isn't amazing, I don't know what is.

"Thanks, Frank."

He looked up then. "You're welcome, Mark. I'm glad to do it. But listen, you gotta do me a favor, too."

"Okay. Shoot."

He flashed me a little grin. "Don't tell Milt. He'll have my hide if he finds out I knew before he did."

I laughed as I started gathering up our trash. "Okay, it's a deal." I cleared the table, then folded the pages again as Frank handed them back to me. "Let's meet at the bank tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, I know, not the estate. Kinda hard to come up with an excuse for doing business together, isn't it?" Frank shot me an evil grin. "Unless, of course, I come out there and drag you away in handcuffs."

"That might be more believable," I agreed lightly, "but I'd still have to come up with a cover story."

Frank was laughing as he rose from his seat. "Listen, Mark, this is a big occasion. Maybe bigger than burgers and a malt can really do justice to. Let me take you out for a drink. We'll celebrate."

"Okay." I clapped him on the back and we moved toward the door. It was all still a little surreal, but I tried to wrap my mind around the idea that I was going out drinking with a cop to celebrate my entrance into law school. I laughed out loud as we stepped out into the evening, knowing that everything was just beginning.


End file.
